


Not A Monster

by ColourfulMelody



Category: Batman: Arkham (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Mild canabilism, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 11:37:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8100952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColourfulMelody/pseuds/ColourfulMelody
Summary: We all know Killer Croc AKA Waylon Jones. But not like acrobat-turned-stripper Megan Dubois knows him.From coworker, to friend, to stranger, to prey, to lover. Megan's been there for Waylon, and the other way around. But can the beauty really love the beast?





	1. Meetings

To say that Megan Dubois was happy to finally have a place to call 'longterm shelter' was an understatement. She was thrilled.

"...and this is your place kid, as long as you make you keep: you can do whatever ya want with it." The owner said, his jet black hair well groomed and black goatee trimmed.

"Merci, thank you. I really appreciate this." Megan smiled, her thick French accent lacing her words.

"Just make me money, and we'll call it even." He said as he winked before leaving the room. "Dinner's in an hour, you should join us."

As the man closed the door behind him, Megan collapsed onto the bed, dropping her two small suitcases onto the ground as she sighed happily. Her short, curly black hair falling on her pillow like a black halo and her brown eyes smiling.

"Well Megan." Megan muttered to herself. "You've finally done it: run off and joined the circus. What would mom and dad say?"

Megan leaned down and opened one of her bags, taking out a single photo of herself in a graduation gown and cap with two adults beside her, one a balding male and the other an older woman.

"They'd be proud Megan...they always were." Megan said to herself happily as she kissed her two fingers and pressed them to the adults faces. "Miss you mama, love you papa."

Sitting up, Megan placed the photo on the table beside her bed as she began to unpack, which of course didn't take long as only one of the small bags held clothes and the other held equipment. As she looked at the clock, she looked over her outfit and decided that the black tank, red flannel, and grey tattered jeans were suitable for dinner and she exited the train car.

Outside the train car was a older woman, waiting patiently. Megan stepped back a little and eyed the woman before standing straight.

"Bonjour, may I help you?" Megan asked.

"The name's Lizzy, but everyone calls me Gran. How ya doin?" The older woman said as she reached out her hand and Megan tentatively shook it.

"I am well...if I may ask... why are you here?" Megan asked.

"I'm here to make sure ya don't get yourself lost sweet pea, now I imagine you little stomach's wanting a nice warm meal! Food tent's this way." Gran said as she started walking away and after a moment of shock, Megan followed.

"Im Megan by the way...Megan Dubois." Megan introduced.

"Oh I know Cutie, I always know who's who around here. Dont let the wrinkles fool ya kiddo, my mind's as sharp as a blade." Gran said with a smile.

"Oh... well...what else do you know about me?" Megan asked, confused about how she should continue the conversation.

"I know you're a little country French girl from France, but ya moved to Gotham. I know you're a gymnast, and a damn good one at that. I saw your audition tape." Gran said happily.

"Oh..well thanks...I think..." Megan said awkwardly.

"No problem Sweetie." The older woman said as they stepped inside a large white tent full of every circus act imaginable. Clowns, gymnasts, animal tamers, everything. Megan's eyes widened as she was overwhelmed at the crowd.

"Now dinner tonight is ground beef with some nice potatos, sit anywhere you like sweetie. But I suggest you avoid sitting with the animal tamers, unless you wanna get those pretty little ears talked off about lions and tigers." Gran said before slipping off.

Megan sighed nervously whispering a silent "you got this' before going to get her food. Once her plate was full she took another look around the tent, every table seemed full except one.

A single table on the very corner of the room, which sat a single person. An eight foot tall man with sharp claws, fangs, and scaly green skin much like that of a crocodile.

For a moment, Megan was frightened before she looked a little more and realized that he wasn't doing anything that deserved her fear, he was just being a normal person.

Taking a deep breath, Megan made her way to the table.

"Um...hello?" She greeted when she arrived at the table, the large man only grunted in return. "My name's Megan...I'm the new act...um...may I sit here?"

"Whatever shorty." He grunted and Megan smiled before sitting down across from the man and began to have her meal.

"So...what kind of performer are you?" Megan asked after a moment. The man paused for a moment before looking a the girl hard. Megan, who felt she had done something wrong and felt like she should apologize, was about to say something when she was suddenly entranced by the man's eyes, which were bight green/yellow and seemed to glow. Megan couldn't help but stare in awe.

"-nt kid?" The man said, bringing Megan out of her trance.

"Huh?" Megan asked, caught of gaurd.

"I said: what do you want kid?" The guy asked.

"Um..." Megan hummed, unsure by what he ment or what to answer. "What?"

"When people talk to me and aren't running for the hills they either want somethin' or are fucking stupid and by the way you're acting I'm thinkin' it's the second. Which one are ya kid?" The guy asked.

"I dont want anything...I just-"

"Waylon!" A male voice said happily as a man in his late twenties with bleach white hair and black eyes came up to the table and threw an arm around the large man, who looked more then displeased at the touch. "How ya doing friend? Who's the lovely lady you got here?"

"I-I'm Megan Dubois...the new act." Megan said shyly.

"The new gymnast! You must be damn good, you totally have the body for it!" The guy said, sending a blush to Megan's cheeks.

"Scram Mackenzie!" The large man growled and the man held his chest in fake hurt.

"How rude of you Waylon! But very well, Kyle Mackenzie never goes where he ain't wanted! Goodbye my darling!" The man said as he winked at Megan before slipping off.

"He seems...odd." Megan muttered.

"Dumbass never has his brains intact." The man, Waylon, growled.

"So...Waylon's your name?" Megan asked.

"Waylon Jones." The man grunted.

"Nice name. Haven't heard that one yet..." Megan said, Waylon only grunted in response before the pair were plunged into silence again.

"Am I...doing something wrong?" Megan asked. "You don't seem to like me much, but...we just met. Im sorry if I did anything..."

Waylon sighed as he put down his dinner.

"Ya haven't done nothin' kid, just...don't take to kindly to others, and don't 'pologize so much, makes ya seem weak." Waylon said, staring straight at Megan. The gymnast only gulped nervously and nodded.

"I assure you, I'm not weak. And as for your other response, wouldn't that get kinda...lonely? Everyone should have someone to talk to." Megan said, cocking her head to the side.

Waylon didn't reply


	2. Friendship

As I finished off my show, I bowed lowly and addressed the crowd before walking out of the ring.

"Great job, you were on fire!" On of the other preformers said and I smiled in reply.

As I went to my little corner of the preforming tent, which consisted of a mirror and a chest and not a whole lot else, I sighed as I fell onto the chair, wiping the sweat of my head before it could smudge my rainbow eyeshadow.

My preforming costume wasn't anything special really. A black, longsleeved, unitard; a small, rainbow skirt that gracefully flew around my hips; black gymnast shoes; and my Raven hair braided is certain places with rainbow ribbons put in.

As the show came to a close, I decided to undo my hair, put on a pair of actual shoes, and take a walk out and look at everything. I think I might be able to catch Waylon's show...though I don't know if he'd like that.

Suddenly, Gran came running up to me.

"Great show tonight Megan." The older woman said.

"Thanks Gran..." I said, confused as to why she was in a rush.

"I really hate to do this, but you think you can look after Becky for me?" Gran said as she stepped aside and showed a small girl behind her. "She's quite small, and blind. I normally look after her but I'm quite busy."

"Umm...sure?" I said unsurely.

"Thanks." Gran said before running off. I turned to the little blind girl.

"So...you're Becky?" I asked and she nodded and giggled. Instantly, I found myself talking for the little angel.

"Your voice sounds cool!" She giggles and I smiled.

"I'm French, I have an accent." I explained as I gently petted her head.

"It's pretty, I bet your really pretty to!" She said happily and I swooned.

"Thank you, that's really nice to say. What do you want to do?" I asked.

"GO TO WAYLON'S SHOW!" She cheered loudly and I became confused.

"Doesn't he fight Alligators?" I asked, remembering what Gran had told me the night prior.

"Waylon's really nice! He says he's my big brother!" She says happily.

"If you say so Ma Cherie." I said, shrugging my shoulders as I put on a black sweater on before heading out.  
***  
Waylon's performance had Megan on the edge of her seat.

She had mentally prepared herself for something far from her comfort zone but...when Waylon began fighting those gators, something was off. When the show ended, Waylon was more then bruised and Megan was more then worried.

The name calling and heckling from the stands wasn't helping.

As Becky and Megan ran around the tent after, the younger girl screamed for the large man.

"Waylon! Waylon!" Becky cried.

"Becky? What're ya doing here?" Waylon asked, surprised.

"Megan took me to see your show!" Becky said happily and Waylon's eyes trailed to the brunette girl.

"Those are quite the injuries, are you okay?" She asked. Her words seemed to surprise Waylon as he gave her a wary look of confusion before crossing his arms and shrugging.

"It's nothing." He muttered, but Megan could tell he was lying.

"Waylon! Carry me!" Becky said as she hugged Waylon's leg and Megan could have sworn he smiled at the blind girl.

"Alright." He Huff's before lifting her up and placed her on her shoulders.

"Those were some pretty mean words from the audience...I wanted to smack a few people for what they said to you..." Megan said, placing her hands on the flare of her hips. Waylon shrugged again, making Becky bob.

"Not any different from.any other day." He said non-chalantly and Megan gawked.

"What? Seriously? That's messed up!" She said and Waylon found her anger entertaining.

"Why do you want to talk to me so much?" He asked, curious. Megan thought for a moment before giving him a shrug of her own.

"I don't know." She said. "I guess it's because you make it hard, and trust me: I like challenges."


	3. Work

Flames...  
Screaming...  
I run for Becky but her hand slips from my gasp, and she falls into the fire. I scream for her, tears streaming down my cheeks.

"BECKY!" I scram, lurching up. I'm panting, my lungs begging for air. My sweaty hands wringing the sheets skewed around my body messily. My eyes dart from side to side, my brain reminding me that I'm in my studio apartment, not in the flaming circus tent. I slow my breath, pushing my bangs out of my face as I look down.

"It's been five years Megan." The girl with raven hair says to herself in her native tongue. "The nightmares should be gone by now...FUCK." 

She falls on her back, praying that the world will just melt away, leaving her by herself.

But then her alarm rings and her hands smashes against the top of her clock. If this wasn't such a good paying job I would cancel, but I hadn't gotten a house-call in days, and my rent was due tomorrow.

Some might say that a stripper is socially inexcusable as a career, and they'd be right. Being a stripper was hard, both mentally and physically, and although it paid well if you had the ability to be great, it was more then a little degrading at times.

Iceberg Lounge, I'd done a fair amount of performances there before. Oswald Cobblepot, the owner, was nice enough. He never actually saw the show, he had his own private girls for that, but gave me the ability to come to the lounge anytime as a normal girl.

His lackey's however...a lot of them were less then ideal clients.

Suddenly, the door opened and my friends, Daisy and Max, came through. Daisy's Uncle owned the building, so we were somehow able to get adjoining rooms when we moved in together. We never went to do a 'house call' unless we went together. We joined the industry together, and we were staying together.

"We ready Sugar?" Max asked as she flung her cracked her knuckles, smirking in joy. Her brown hair was long and choppy and she wore a black corseted crop-top, black cut off shorts, and a cropped leather jacket. Her makeup made her look dangerous and intimidating. 

"We look the part." Daisy said, her blonde hair curled perfectly down her back as her white tank top and light mini skirt gave her the illusion of innocence. 

"And the Iceberg limo's waiting outside." I said, checking my phone as the driver texted me. My short black hair was let loose in its natural frizz. A purple see-through lace top with black short-shorts and fishnet tights hugging my legs. 

Angel, Amethyst, and Arial.

"Can't keep the audience waiting!" Max AKA Angel said.


	4. Dances

"Osi!" I say as walk through the doors of the Iceberg Lounge, and Oswald smiles at me and the two girls behind me.

"Amethyst!" He said as he opened his arms, I wink and blow him a kiss. "How are you Love?" 

"The girls and I are ready for work." I said, placing my hands on the flare of my hips.

"You always are, the boys are waiting in the back room. You need anything, just holler." HE said before walking away. I look back at the girls, nod, and we make our way inside.  
***  
Since there weren't any poles or even a stage, or dancing mostly took place on the same floor as the men, dancing around them as we let them subtly stroke us before moving away, all the while gyrating our hips in circles to the beat of the music and pulling dance moves only a former gymnast and dance majors could. 

Suddenly, Daisy grabbed my hand and pulled our bodies flush against each other. I smirked and spun around, letting my body dip low as I practically grinded my best friend. Suddenly, Daisy took my shirt, releasing my black lace bra. The men wolf-whistled and I winked, letting my hands trail from my hair to my body, my fingers tracing lines along my own body.

All of a sudden, another man walked in, took one look at the scene, grabbed me, and dragged me to the back room. When we got out of sight, I pulled back. 

"You want a private dance, pay up." I said, outstretching my hand.

"Correction Whore, I want more then a dance." He said with a primal look and a smirk.

"I'm a stripper, I don't sleep with my clients. Find a hooker." I said, but then he took out a gun and held it under my chin.

"Did I stutter? Get on your knees!" He ordered and I glared before winding back and decking him in the jaw.

"You need serious help." I said, crossing my arms over my chest and suddenly, he grabbed me before dragging me outside.

"You know what lives in these sewers little girl?" He asks. "A monster, that's what. He's human, but sure as hell doesn't act or look like it. You got one last chance, get naked or become a monster's dinner."

I had heard rumors but they weren't real...were they?

"Bite me." I growled.

"Very well, see ya Doll-Face." He said before shoving me into the sewers.


End file.
